Party Boys
by crematosis
Summary: Albel had been attracted to Maria and Fayt had always had a crush on Sophia. However, after a little drink, both men end up in a situation neither could predict, with each other. AlbelxFayt


A/N: I had started this little one-shot years ago and got frustrated with how it was turning out. I've finally returned to fix it and finish it up. It's still surprisingly weird and euphemistic…but I'm not in the mood to completely change everything and make it all hardcore….I'd feel almost dirty since I'm writing it from first-person. Ick.

Disclaimer: Despite all the "I" phrases, Fayt is not me and I am not Fayt….and I don't own Fayt either…I'm just pretending.

I am not the type to go to loud parties, but here I am, at a loud party, feeling miserable and alone. All of the girls are in long, shimmering dresses, feeling like princesses. The guys have all cleaned up nicely. Even the ones who wear tattered jeans during the day are dressed up.

I can't believe I was invited to this. I really don't belong. It's a nice party, but the music is too loud for me. I don't recognize any of the songs. Everyone is talking loudly to everyone else and I'm alone in my corner, watching people laughing and dancing drunkenly.

I'm trying my best to slip away unnoticed when Albel approaches me. We're probably the only two people here without a date or a group of friends to hang out with. Albel's not shy like me, but he doesn't have a girlfriend. There are plenty of girls at the party who would gladly dance with him. Albel does have a reputation as a lady killer. However, Albel usually prefers to be alone and drink himself into oblivion. The girls are always willing to take him home and hopefully spend the night.

Albel is dressed all in blue, but he doesn't look unhappy. He grins at the girls that are waving at him and then grabs my arm. "Come on, Fayt. I have something to tell you. Let's go somewhere quiet."

I'm puzzled by this, but allow myself to be dragged off to a separate closed room. Albel closes the door behind us and he jumps onto a coffee table, scatting papers to the ground.

He raises his champagne glass as if making a speech and announces loudly, "We're tired of being bachelors. We're going to go out there and have fun."

I blush. "I'm not getting married tonight."

Albel takes a sip from his glass. "Of course not tonight. But think about it. Your future wife could be out there waiting. I saw you watching that girl dancing. Sophia, isn't it?"

"I could never talk to her," I stammer.

'Why not? I'm twenty-five. You're twenty-three. We're too old to be womanizing. I feel like finally settling down. I'll talk to Maria. She's been talking about wanting to get married. You go talk to Sophia."

"I can't do it," I protest. "I'm no good with women."

Albel looks at me appraisingly. "You'll be fine. But have a glass of vodka to settle your nerves. Everyone is kind of tipsy anyway. They won't notice that you've had a bit to drink. If you just drink a little, it will give you confidence without making you drunk."

Albel picks up a bottle on the counter and pours me a glass. I carefully drink it all.

I wake up feeling groggy and hot. I couldn't move if I wanted to. Confused, I try to look around without moving my head.

Pain. My whole body is on fire.

Albel's face swims into view. My eyes are blurry and I can't quite make out his features, just his outline.

"How are you feeling? I was starting to worry that you'd be knocked out all night." His voice echoes and he sounds far away. "But then again, you were always sensitive to alcohol." He laughs. It sounds cracked and hollow.

"Are you hot?" he asks suddenly. I cannot answer. My tongue feels heavy and covered in fur.

"Let me help you," Albel intones seriously. He moves out of focus and I lie there helplessly as he pulls off my shoes, socks, shirt, pants, underwear. The cool air feels good against my bare skin, but I don't have much time to reflect.

Touching, stroking. Albel's hands are everywhere, everywhere that they shouldn't be. Every touch is magnified. I feel warmth flow through my body and the blood rise to my skin. Hot blood, passionate blood. I can't tell him to stop. All I can do is moan and gasp for breath.

The room is quiet except for my moaning and Albel's panting.

I can't help feeling the way I do. Warm, sticky, relaxed. Albel is lying on top of me, his head on my chest. It feels so familiar, so natural.

Briefly, I wonder how it has come to this. We had just been talking about giving up on parties and getting married and finding a woman. It doesn't make much sense, but I'm too fuzzy to do much thinking.

Albel rolls off of me and eyes the bottle of vodka. "Did we just…? Yes, I suppose that's right. Strange, strange stuff." He turns his head suddenly and vomits on the floor.

I feel dizzy and I think that perhaps I want to vomit too, but Albel returns and scoops me into his arms. My stomach immediately settles and I'm left with a feeling of blissful contentment. I can't believe how much I'm enjoying being held by another man and I can't believe Albel would rather have me over Maria. But perhaps I'm still too out of it to be thinking things through.

I test my tongue. It still feels like it's coated in fur, but I find I can manage to get words out. "What happened?" I ask thickly.

Albel is sober now and he looks completely mortified to see what he has done while drunk. He still has me wrapped in his arms, but he is gazing at me like I'm some kind of alien.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Albel murmurs. "If I had known…" He looks ashamed and truly sorry.

"You drugged me so you could take advantage of me," I accuse.

Albel shakes his head. "No, I drugged both of us." He has the bottle of vodka in his hand, looking intently at the label.

I squirm out of Albel's arms and flop on the ground. It still doesn't make any sense and my brain hurts. Why on earth would he drug both of us?

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Albel repeats. "This stuff is supposed to only make you desire your soul mate. It's supposed to be the perfect self-inflicted love potion. I meant it when I said I was tired of one-night stands and flimsy relationships. Drinking this was supposed to help me find the one person I'd actually stay with long-term." He wrinkles his nose. "It wasn't supposed to make me jump the first person I saw."

I think I am finally beginning to understand, although I'm not sure I like what this means. "We both drank the stuff and ended up with each other," I say softly.

Albel nods and he looks at me again, his eyes trailing down my body. I attempt to cover my nakedness, but Albel only shakes his head. "I don't get it," he says at last. "I've always liked women."

I would agree with him, but now I'm not so sure. I've always been incredibly nervous around women, but being with Albel just feels so natural.

Albel reaches out a hand to pull me up to a seated position. My body still feels incredibly weak. I look enviously at Albel. I can't believe he drank the same stuff and feels none of this weakness.

I nearly topple over and Albel wraps his arms around me to steady me, looking almost horrified by his instinctive action. But I don't mind. I lean into him, smelling the spicy scent of his cologne and feeling the heat of his body. It seems so right, so natural.

Albel pets my hair. "We're friends, Fayt. We shouldn't be doing this," he murmurs, even as one hand moves down to bury itself between my legs.

My breath hitches and I lean back against him for support. His touch feels just as good the second time and this time I've decided that I'm not ashamed of how good it makes me feel.

We spend the next hour in the little room. I'm still too weak and shaky to do much for Albel, but I try my best. "How long am I supposed to feel this way?" I whisper to Albel.

Albel doesn't like being interrupted in his conquest of my body, but he reluctantly slides his hands off my hips and retrieves the bottle that passes for vodka. He scowls at it. "They didn't do such a stellar job warning me that I'd jump my best friend but…" Albel's eyes narrow. "I see."

"What is it?" I ask weakly.

Albel smiles and shakes his head. "It said something about if two soul mates drink the stuff, the person who is destined to be the submissive partner will be temporarily weakened." He sighs. "Honestly, if I had been thinking I would have read that part a little more closely and then when you keeled over I would have known what was going on." He shrugs. "But I never expected it would be you."

"How long will I be weakened?" I whisper.

"Doesn't say," Albel says softly. "But it says you'll eventually recover through sex."

"Sex will wear me out," I complain. "I'll never be able to stand again."

Albel kisses my forehead. "I will give you my strength. Trust me, this will work out."

Sex hurts, but there is also a wonderful pleasurable feeling that dulls all the pain, a bundle of nerves inside me that completely erases all other conscious thought except the blinding waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I grip Albel's shoulders with a strength I never knew I had. Albel has to be right. Sex is such a powerful, exhilarating force. At the moment, I feel like I could fly. But there's no way I would ever untangle myself from Albel to test my new strength.

The party continues around us, but inside our little room we are celebrating each other.

The End


End file.
